


Not to me. Not if it’s you.

by Veraison



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Auguste, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28430664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veraison/pseuds/Veraison
Summary: Laurent gets sick and refuses to rest. Damen disagrees.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98
Collections: Captive Prince Secret Santa 2020





	Not to me. Not if it’s you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firondoiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/gifts).



Every now and then, Laurent seemed strange. Aloof and lost in his thoughts. Damen had learned to let him be. If his lover wanted to share his worries, he would listen. But if Laurent did not wish to do so, nothing could make him. It was better to just follow his lead. But this time, it was evident this was not going away on its own. Laurent went to bed early, but rose late, still tired. He ate poorly and refused to go riding with Damen. This was nothing unusual, Laurent had his darker moods, but this one had lasted longer than any before it. Usually Damen was able to take his mind off his worries and whatever things that just waited in the darkest corners of his mind. Not this time. 

His tongue was sharper than ever, which meant more work for Damen and everybody else. The timing was not ideal: there had been a drought and a summer fever had followed it. They had to organize relief and help for the places that needed it and appease areas that had to give to others. Damen needed Laurent there with him, working with him, using his mind. He especially did not need him dividing their council, the kyroi and their allies. The union was still not finished, they still had a long way to go. So in the end, Damen had to do something.  
Laurent had left Damen no choice. Damen would have preferred to follow his lead, but Laurent was unwilling to lead, anywhere else than over a cliff.

“Next time concentrate on the matter at hand, not on cheating on your wife, councilor.” Damen sighed. 

They were about to go to bed, when Damen felt his moment had come. He chose to stay standing while Laurent was sitting, fighting with his lacings. As for a week now, he had refused any help.

“Let me help you,” Damen still said and tried to come closer.

“No. I will ask for your help if I need it,” Laurent hissed and tried to use his teeth to pull at the strings. His trying had only made the knots tighter. 

Damen sighed. He took in the sight of Laurent: his golden hair, his white skin that glowed with warmth, his red cheeks, his blue eyes…

That looked dull. His lips, so dry that they cracked. His red cheeks, even when he had stayed inside for days. His skin, not warm with health, but with sickness. Damen put his hand on Laurent’s forehead.

“Sweetheart, you are burning.” Laurent’s hair was curly from sweat. He rubbed his eyes. Damen noticed how lifeless Laurent looked, how gray his skin was.

“Do not touch me,” Laurent rasped and tried to slap Damen’s hand away. He was too slow: Damen had already moved his hand away, which made Laurent slap air. Which in turn made him lose his balance. Damen caught him by the shoulder. 

“I will call for Paschal.”

Laurent scowled at him. “If I wanted him here, I would have called him myself.”

“How long has this been going on?” Damen tried to think when Laurent had first turned sour and peculiar. He had never seen Laurent sick before, only with hangovers, but those were rare. 

“You should have told me,” he scolded absentmindedly. Laurent’s face turned as red as his cheeks and he bit his lip, until it bled.

“Don’t do that”, Damen said, but gently. He tried to touch Laurent’s lip, but Laurent turned his head away.

“My sickness does not concern you”, Laurent said. But before he could continue, he had to shut his mouth and cough. He tried to keep them in, but his body spasmed with the force. 

“Alright, I will call for Paschal.”

“It’s the summer fever, my lords”, Paschal confirmed Damen’s fear. The physician had only looked at Laurent and listened to him cough before making the diagnosis. 

“Is it dangerous?” Damen asked. He noticed Laurent rolled his eyes, which both irritated Damen and relieved him, that Laurent was at least well enough to do that.

“No, as long as he gets treated.” Paschal turned to Damen. “He needs plenty of fluids, a lukewarm bath and sleep. Some patients also experience nausea and vomiting, so give his highness something easy to stomach.”

“Thank you.” Damen looked at Laurent, who looked like he was about to fall asleep. “Paschal, if you don’t mind, would you ask the servants to make some tea and ready the baths? I will get Laurent there.”

Paschal bowed and left. Damen sat down next to Laurent and started helping him undress. Laurent was limp as a rag doll. His undershirt was wet with sweat and he shook from the cold.

“My head hurts,” Laurent said, or moaned in pain. He kept his eyes closed. Damen petted his hair and pulled his shirt off.

“Paschal left some medicine for you, but you need to eat first.” He helped Laurent up for a bit, to take off his trousers.

He propped Laurent against pillows and turned to search for his nightshirt.

“Are you mad at me?” Laurent’s voice sounded small and frail.

Damen ceased his search for a moment and left out a soft laugh. “Of course not. I just wish you would have told me earlier. You could have rested and recovered already.” 

“I just thought it was my problem. I tried to solve it on my own.” 

Damen turned his gaze to Laurent, who had pulled the sheets close to him and his knees to his chest. Damen decided to let the nightshirt be and climbed back into the bed and pulled Laurent close to him.

They sat there for a moment, the only sound was Laurent’s heavy breathing and coughing. Laurent’s body produced so much heat that Damen could feel sweating beginning to occur between their bodies. He pushed Laurent’s curls from his forehead and tenderly pulled his head backwards so he could kiss the crown of Lauren’s head.

“Your problems are my problems. No matter how great or insignificant.” Damen pulled Laurent closer. “Next time tell me, so I do not have to wonder about why you are hissing like a wet cat.” Damen’s voice was light and kidding.

Laurent laughed, which made him cough more.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

The servants came with mint tea and the announcement the baths were ready for them. Damen instructed them to keep the tea warm and change the sheets. He helped Laurent put on his nightshirt and let him use his body as a crutch. 

“I could just carry you,” Damen tried to suggest but Laurent shut him up.

“No. Only if my legs refuse to work. Until then I will walk on my own.”

Damen said nothing about how putting all of his weight on Damen was not really walking on his own. 

The baths were empty and filled with steam. Paschal had advised to keep the water tepid, but to fill the room with steam. He said it would open up Laurent’s sinuses.  
If it were not to work, they would need to use steam more directly. Damen, who was familiar with steam inhalation from childhood, wished it did not go to that.

Laurent sat in the bath. “The water needs to be warmed. I am still cold.”

“Paschal said that too warm would dehydrate you. You just need to wash yourself a little and warm up. Try to breathe in some steam.”

Damen took some soap and started to work through Laurent’s hair with it. Laurent tried to close his eyes and relax, but soon Damen could feel him getting restless.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, hoping for Laurent’s sake he felt a little better.

“My head hurts. The torches are too bright. The stones are slippery and hard. I want to go back to bed.”

“Let me rinse your hair first.” Damen had hoped warm water and washing up would make Laurent better, but evidently it did not work. 

“I want to go now,” Laurent insisted, his voice trembling in a way Damen scarcely heard. 

“Darling, the soap will itch if it dries. I will do it fast.”

Damen waited until Laurent nodded and then started hastily and carefully rinsing the soap out. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Laurent drank some mint tea, but then complained it burned his throat. He refused the gruel made for him, invoking his nausea. 

“And if I try to eat, I will choke. I can not breathe through my nose.”

Damen took a deep breath. They were alone, which was good. Laurent was not very kingly at the moment. He looked small and tired. And if Damen did not love him so much and had not worshiped the ground he walked on, he would have called him a brat.

“Let’s try the steam inhalation that Paschal recommended.” Damen had foreseen the need for it, so the water was already boiling. He emptied some of it in a bucket and took a towel.

“Alright, lean over the bucket a little.”

Laurent did as he was told. Damen put the towel over his head.

“Lean a little closer. You should feel the steam on your face.”

Damen could not see Laurent’s face but the towel-covered head moved lower.

“It’s too hot”, Laurent muttered.

“It needs to be steaming. Believe me, it does not feel nice, but you will be able to breathe much better.” Damen remembered many childhood winters and fevers that came with them. The vapour made it easier to breathe, but also made one sweat and the position meant sweat fell into Laurent’s eyes.

Laurent threw the towel away. Damen was caught off guard, otherwise he would have caught it. Now the moist towel hit the marble floor.

“Why can you just not leave me be? I will sleep this off and be better tomorrow. Keep your wives’ tales away from me!”

Damen had a retort ready, it was sitting on his tongue. Something about how Laurent had tried to sleep this off for a week now. How everybody was tired, how he needed to take responsibility for his health and do what he must to quickly recover. 

Before he could say anything, he noticed the glistening of Laurent’s eyes. How he kept blinking and rubbing his eyes.  
Damen took a step closer. 

“Are you crying?” This was the first time he had seen Laurent this close to crying. It alarmed him. Surely there had to be a reason for it, other than a fever.

Laurent refused to answer and turned away.

“Laurent, my heart, I am so sorry if you feel I have been too forceful with you. But you will not get better without medicine, without resting.”

He could still hear Laurent sniffling.

“But I promise, I will listen to you more carefully from here on out. Just tell me what is wrong.”  
Laurent took a breath, but it still took some time for him to be able to speak. Damen waited patiently.

“I just- my head hurts so much I might throw up. And my body is burning, but I am still so cold. My mind is full of fog. I can’t think.” Laurent finally looked at Damen. He was holding himself like a lost child, his eyes were wide as a rabbit’s caught in a trap. A prey animal looking for a way out, willing to gnaw its own leg off.

“I can’t think. If there is some danger to be found, if something happens, I am useless. I can’t scheme, I can’t fight, my arms are too weak to hold a sword. Even my tongue is not sharp enough to keep people away.”

Laurent collapsed on the floor, his knees had given out. He was holding himself up with his hands, his head hanging between his shoulders. Damen sat down, a bit farther away than he wanted to.

“You are safe here. Even if something were to happen, I am here with you. I will let nothing bad happen to you while I am around.”

Laurent lifted his head and held Damen’s gaze for a moment. His eyes were red-rimmed and wild. The evening sun made his hair shine in golden light. 

“Auguste used to tell me that when I was sick. I have not been this sick since he died.”

Since you killed him hung in the air between them. Damen knew that he had taken Laurent’s safety from him once. And how that had ended.

“I just wish he was here.” Laurent lay on the floor and pulled his limbs into a fetal position. “I wish he was here to do all of this. Or that he was just here, to tell me it is all going to be alright.”  
Laurent reached his hand out to Damen. “But then I would not have you. I would not have survived my uncle without you. I love you, I would die for you. I just wish-” Laurent closed his eyes, but Damen could see tears running down his cheeks. 

“There exists no such universe where I could have you both with me. I wish it were not so.” 

Damen took hold of Laurent’s hand. He had no words to give, nothing to say. Nothing but  
“I love you.”

It would have to do. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Laurent let himself be lifted from the floor. He drank his tea and ate a little. Damen held the mug from him and while he did not feed Laurent, he held the plate close to Laurent’s lap. Finally Damen helped him into bed.

“I will stay awake for a moment. I will look through the proposal, so you can rest tomorrow.”

Laurent nodded and closed his eyes. It seemed as if the tears had drained all spirit from him.  
Damen put out all candles but one. He sat down at Laurent’s desk and began to work.

Sun had gone down hours ago and only stars were visible in the night sky, when Laurent stirred. Damen, who had been lost in his thoughts, went again to stand by the bed. Sometimes Laurent would have nightmares, it would be better to wake him up than let him suffer in the hope of allowing him to rest more.

Laurent flinched awake and still in his dreams, he put his hand in front of his mouth. Damen suddenly remembered what Paschal had said and reached for a bucket. He was just in time for Laurent to vomit into it. The sounds of retching blended in with Laurent’s coughing and teared at Damen’s heart.

“I hate this,” Laurent spit out between bouts of coughing and throwing up. “I can not stand this. It has already gone on for too long and now this. I can work with a head being split up from pain, I can work with fever or nausea. I can not go to my council while spewing my guts out.”

“Well, tomorrow you are not going anywhere. You will rest, as you should have from the beginning.”

It was not a lecture, it was not a scolding. Damen wanted to make sure Laurent knew he could always step out for a moment if he needed to do so. Damen had his back. 

“I just wish I could feel better right now.” Laurent let himself lie down again. “I feel absolutely empty and disgusting.”

Damen played softly with his hair and caressed his forehead and cheeks. He ran his thumb up and down Laurent’s temples. 

“You will feel better tomorrow. I promise you, this is the worst of it. You will wake up still tired, but well rested compared to now. Your eyes will once again see clearly and your thoughts will run like they usually do. Your appetite will come back, even if you have to be a bit careful with what you eat. Your head might still hurt, but it won’t kill you. This will pass, you will heal.”

Laurent’s eyes were trying to close, but he kept them open stubbornly. If they stayed closed for a moment every now and then, Damen did not say anything.

Finally Laurent grasped his hand.

“Promise?”

Damen did not know what he was promising, but he knew the answer would always be the same.

“I promise.”

Damen woke up to sunlight and cool air. He turned to his side, finding the spot next to him.

“Good morning,” he heard from the window and turned his head.

Laurent was sitting on the windowsill, the ocean shining blue and bright behind him. The wind was playing with his hair and he was smiling in the morning light. It was as if tears and vomit had taken with them his sickness, his worries and nightmares. Damen knew they would be back, but this time they would be ready.

**Author's Note:**

> So hey!!! I'm your pinch hitter, but I hope i did your request justice!  
> The title is of course from Euripides by Anne Carson:  
> “Pylades: I’ll take care of you.  
> Orestes: It’s rotten work.  
> Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.”


End file.
